


ghosts and spitfire

by scorpionGrass



Series: you can’t put a price on peace (of mind) [3]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 14:59:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19211824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpionGrass/pseuds/scorpionGrass
Summary: Elena joins the Turks, but it's not the victory she was hoping for. Not when she's become the replacement for all the others they lost.Post Before Crisis.





	1. Case of Elena

“Hey, rookie.”

Elena ignores Reno, sitting with his feet up on his desk, chair leaned back far enough that he’s somehow eluding the laws of gravity. She ignores him and stares at the wood of her desk, the scratches in the surface, the dull spot where the mouse sat since the previous owner didn’t use a mousepad. The patterns where the dust has settled between the black mechanical keys on the keyboard, the shift of it under where the monitor had slid further back.

“Rookie.”

From the corner of her eye, Elena sees Rude slip Reno a note.

“Ah,” Reno says when he unravels it, and she can hear his annoying smirk spread across his face. “Elena.”

“What do you want?” she finally asks, and it comes out sharp and irritated.

“You haven’t settled in yet,” he states. “Anything we can do to help the rookie out?”

Elena knows she imagined the softness in his voice that time. He’s a Turk, after all. They’re good at pretending. She’s good at pretending. Or supposed to be.

“No.”

“Aw, you sure? We’re only four people now, gotta stick together, help each other out.”

She can feel her shoulders tense into a hard line, her fists clench in her lap. Four people. Four Turks, when there used to be more. A whole team, missing, gone, or dead. Elena knows she’s just a replacement, and a poor one recruited out of necessity rather than any kind of respect or skill.

“Yeah,” she says tightly. “Four.”

Emma’s gone now, with the rest of them. And Elena was given a gun, the same make and model, the same bullets. The same black suit for a uniform, but it didn’t fit her as well as it fit Emma.

“So, let us know if there’s anything we can do,” Reno says. “Gotta make this place feel homey for the new girl.”

Her father didn’t even cry when he gave her the news about Emma. About everyone. He just told her, nodded briefly to acknowledge the tears welling up in her eyes, and then gave her the letter of employment that Shin-Ra sent with him. Tseng had written it, his name signing off at the end, containing instructions to be in the Shin-Ra building for nine o’clock in the morning that Monday.

(She didn’t go that Monday, or the next, or the next, leaving the letter discarded on her bedside table for weeks, but when she finally dragged herself into Shin-Ra Headquarters, the secretary at the door had a pass with her name on it.)

“Think it’s time to clean up a bit?” Tseng asks, walking into the shared office. He stops by Cissnei’s old desk, where a mug full of colourful pens sits, along with a snow globe souvenir from Icicle Inn that was collecting dust. “It’s been… weeks, after all.”

“Nah. We can do it later,” Reno says, taking his feet off his desk and slowly standing up. “So, briefing time?”

“Yes. Meet me in my office in a few minutes,” Tseng says, holding up a steaming mug. “I need some coffee before we can start.”

Reno smirks. “Fair.”

Tseng’s personal office door shuts, the one with Veld’s name still plastered on the nameplate, and the room goes dead silent for a singular moment.

Reno shuffles through some papers on his desk, straightening them out and throwing them into one of his drawers. Takes a sip from his water bottle (and Elena wouldn’t put it past him if it were alcohol). Then, he passes her desk, finger swiping up a streak of dust.

“You don’t need to let ghosts keep you from settling in,” he says softly, before bee-lining to meet Tseng.

Elena’s eyes fall back onto her desk, where nothing has been touched since she was assigned to sit here on Monday, and wonders just why they had to give her Emma’s desk, weapon, and clothes.

(She’s not Emma.)

“You guys will call me if you need me, right?” Elena asks aloud, watching Rude from the corner of her eye.

He nods.

She hesitates, but considering her only assignment so far is to clean up and personalize her desk, she figures it’ll be fine. “I’ll be around, then,” she says, getting up and waving her PHS, all but rushing out the door.

~

The streets of Midgar aren’t exactly the fresh air Elena wants, but it’s better than sitting in a room full of ghosts, hanging out in the R&D labs with Scarlet, or even staring out the windows of the highest floor to look over Midgar with its green-tinged overcast skies. All she can think about is that she’s retracing Emma’s steps, taking secondhand looks at everything Emma witnessed before her. That Emma was here first, and that’s a lot to live up to the way everyone talks about her.

Elena passes by the theatre, LOVELESS posters plastered on the walls, some littering the streets. A paperboy hands them out, and she deliberately ignores him, moving on to the next block, trying to find something to distract herself with that isn’t a love story tainted with even more death.

She knows that Turks in this district are fairly well-respected, but her days at the Academy tell her otherwise. Her uniform is a form of repellant, and for the most part pedestrians part around her. It might be respect, but it’s in the form of fear more than awe.

Right now, though, it’s just convenient. No one will bother her.

Her Shin-Ra-issue gun and EMR are on her in case anything happens though, and she remembers the weird look Tseng had on his face when he handed her all of Emma’s old equipment.

“No use in wasting perfectly good weapons,” he said softly as she strapped them to herself. “She looked after them, and you’d do well to do the same.”

It’s her own fault, Elena supposes. It’s her fault she didn’t bother specializing in anything in particular while she was at the Academy, being a jack-of-all-trades, capable of wielding any weapon on a level of familiarity, but never being able to rely on a singular one. That’s why she has Emma’s cast-offs. That’s why she’s stuck gripping into Emma’s fingerprints every time she has to shoot.

Finally, Elena finds what she’s looking for: an office supply store, crooked between a high-rise apartment complex and a fast-food place. The bell rings above her head when she walks in and heads straight for the stationery aisle.

She’s in the middle of debating whether to get the set of gel pens or the boring black and blue pens when a clerk sidles up to her, clearly not wanting to bother her.

“Do you need any help finding anything, miss?” he asks with a shaky voice.

Her eyes shift over to him. “No, I don’t.”

He practically squeaks and shuffles away. “Sorry for bothering you!”

Elena almost feels sorry for him, but so far this was the only good thing about being a Turk. No one would mess with her ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really wanted to delve into elena and the identity crisis she probably had when she was recruited as a turk. i know canon in the before crisis game is that the turks, for the most part, scattered, but the official report has them dead so that's what elena is working with here and i hope you enjoy part one of four!


	2. Case of Reno

When Elena busts back through the office doors, no one expects her to be carrying a bag full of supplies in one hand and a heavy duty duster in the other.

Reno watches as she dumps her spoils from the office supply store onto her leather chair and pulls out a can of pressurized air, confused and intrigued. “You finally making that desk yours, rookie?”

“My name,” she says with gritted teeth, “is Elena.”

“Huh, wouldn’t’ve guessed,” Reno jokes.

Her hair is still tied up in her schoolgirl pigtails, the same as in her photos from her Academy days less than a year ago. They’re cute and make Reno want to bug her even more. Pulling pigtails, as Rude had told him earlier, like on a playground.

“What else is in the bag?”

“Stuff.”

When Emma had first joined the Turks, it had been a tradition to go to the nearest bar and see how much the new kid could handle. Bonding over drinks and the everyday death that surrounded them, that was their initiation. Even better if a target was there, because then there’d be a brawl. Those were the best ones. Then when it’s too late, cabs home and a group hangover at the office the next day, with Tseng being the only one still looking pristine like he’d never had a drop.

It went unspoken, but it wouldn’t be happening for their newest recruit.

Special circumstances, Reno remembers Tseng telling them quietly in Veld’s (no, it’s Tseng’s now isn’t it?) office. That went unsaid too, but he and Rude both know why. It’s not exactly a time to celebrate.

She has skills, and Reno’s watched the tapes of her sessions in the Academy’s simulated training room, taking down infantrymen left and right. They’d be idiots not to acknowledge that she was the top of her class, and wasn’t valedictorian only because she turned it down. No doubt because of what happened.

With Emma, and the rest.

The rookie’s done dusting now, having sprayed the hell out of her keyboard. Now she’s unpacking the rest of the plastic bag. “What are you gonna do with that many gel pens?”

“Colour code the shit out of my reports,” she says. “Maybe I’ll even add sparkly doodles in the margins.”

There’s barely a hint of a joke in her voice, a hard edge in its place, but Reno laughs anyway.

There’s sticky notes too, in various shapes and sizes, and when Reno squints he can make out shapes. Hearts, cherry blossoms, stars, and four leaf clovers. A light blue sectioned pen holder than holds everything at an angle. She even pulls out stickers and decorates it before throwing the gel pens in by colour group.

“You gonna bedazzle everything too while you’re at it?” Reno laughs.

She specifically doesn’t respond to that, but he can tell she wants to the way her shoulders reach for her ears in a tense line. She’s such an easy target.

It’s all… extremely high school of her. Juvenile, for the Department of Administrative Research at least. Reno wonders with some amusement what Tseng would think of her round-shaped purple stapler and sparkly pink ruler. Soon her desk is filled with office supplies in colours that would be right at home in an elementary school classroom. A ruled notepad in a lavender colour, a wireless mouse with a black and white swirl design on the casing, and a PHS stand that looks like a moogle, complete with the red fluff popping out of it’s head.

Rude would like that one. Got a soft spot for those things.

“You know,” Reno says finally, “you could’ve just gone down to supplies and restocked for free. Had the same shit we all got.”

She turns into her chair to face him. She looks serious, like her sister with those same hard eyes and pressed lips. A common look whenever she disapproved of something, usually pointed directly at him. “How else are you going to tell me and Emma apart?” she asks, crossing her arms and waiting for an answer.

Reno blinks, glancing at her desk and back into her eyes. He smirks. “Why would you ever think we'd mix you up?”

(But he has already, and it’s why calling her “rookie” is so much easier.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reno's a fun character. getting that balance just right between his grieving, dealing w the changes, and his joking/non-serious demeanor was hard but fun, and i hope i did a good job!
> 
> and i hope u enjoyed this update <3


	3. Case of Rude

“New hair?”

Rude looks up to see Reno enter back into the office. Elena’s been around for a while now, sitting at her desk and fiddling with her computer, hair now tied into a ponytail instead of the signature pigtails he’s seen from her high school grad pictures on Tseng’s hiring file.

Reno leans over her desk, hand reaching around her to pull the length of her ponytail over her shoulder. “Hmm. Kinda reminds me of Shotgun,” he notes. “You got the side-part and everything. Don’t you think so Rude?”

Rude glances their way for less than a second before turning back to reading the contents of the manila folder he’s holding, saying nothing. His next mission is more important than Reno’s hazing of the new girl.

“I’m not Shotgun,” Elena grits out.

Rude can see Reno back off, arms raised in a half-surrender, smirk still in place. “Hey, never said you were.”

Veld’s office door opens to reveal Tseng, just in time to break up whatever Reno was inevitably about to start. “Reno, you’re here,” he says, lips in a downturned state. They’ve been like that for at least a month now, never once quirking up like they used to with wry humour or dry wit. “We need to go over a few things.”

“Sure thing, boss-man.”

Reno saunters away, leaving Elena alone to her own devices again. Rude peers over the edge of the manila folder at her and looks away when it’s clear that she’s upset, that she has to bite her lip to stop herself from crying.

If Rude notices anything, he makes no mention of it. But when it’s noon, he quietly invites her to eat lunch with him in the cafeteria.

~

Lunch is a quiet affair.

Anything would be, since Elena seems to bounce back whatever energy is thrown at her. She’s aggressive with Reno, professional with Tseng, but she hasn’t been with Rude that much. To be honest, he just hasn’t spent much time with her, save for long bouts of silence in the Department of Administrative Research where he mostly ignores her for whatever pressing paperwork Reno’s dumped on his desk.

Her file was impressive enough for Tseng to take her in, though. That’s all he really needs to know. Friends aren’t something he really wants to make again, not in this line of business.

“So, you use an EMR too?”

Rude looks up from his PHS to see Elena staring at him intently. “Explosives,” he says shortly, but continues when she cocks her head to the side, obvious follow-up on her mind. “Expert in demolition, but the EMR comes in handy when hand-to-hand doesn’t cut it.”

He knows she was given a Shinra-issue gun. He assumes that’s her specialty, but he catches her glance at it on top of her desk often, hold it up to see the bits of wear around the barrel, press her fingers into a grip that’s already been molded. Like she doesn’t want it, like she doesn’t know how to use it.

“You use a gun,” he asks, but it’s more of a statement.

Elena frowns. “I can use anything. But I was given this,” she says, pulling the gun out of her holster and setting in on the table. “It was Emma’s.”

Rude’s brow furrows, understanding dawning. “Harsh.”

“You tell me,” she says, but there’s no humour in it. “Tseng thought… I don’t know what he thought. Maybe he didn’t want to waste a perfectly functioning weapon.”

Tseng’s turned into more of a wall than Rude knew was possible lately. It’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking unless he says so outright, but that hasn’t happened recently either. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Too bad.”

“So,” Rude starts, “anything?”

Elena grimaces. Then launches into her opinions of different weapons and what her preferences are.

Rude never read her file past her photo, but talking to her like this, he realizes why Tseng hired her. Out of all the graduates, why she was the one who made the cut, the only one who got a summons from him directly, completely bypassing the interview process. And why no other Shin-Ra Academy grad even got acknowledged.

She could replace every single one of the Turks they lost in terms of her weapons skills and know-how.

(He’s impressed, but she doesn’t deserve this kind of life no matter how much she’s prepared for it.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rude is a kind soul and i love him and his flashy explosions.
> 
> like and comment if you're enjoying this so far! last but not least is case of tseng, coming soon to an ao3 near you!


	4. Case of Tseng

“Elena.”

She looks up from her computer, where a half-finished game of Solitaire is open. “Sir,” she says, standing at attention. Her chair nearly tips over behind her, but Reno’s there to catch it as he returns to the office with a fresh mug of coffee in hand.

“Watch it, rookie,” he says with a teasing smirk.

Tseng sends him away with a look. He notes that Elena almost looks relieved. That is, until he turns his stone-like eyes back on her. “I know you haven’t had much to do this week. Things have not been busy for us, but we do have an assignment for you if you’re up for the work.”

If Tseng didn’t know better, he’d think they were twins. The same blonde hair, determined eyes, willingness to do what was necessary, and eagerness to please. It’s different though, when she’s still shellshocked by Emma’s death, so asking permission is a courtesy more than anything.

He knows it was a mistake when her eyes shift, going dark.

Elena grits her teeth. “With all due respect, I’m here to work, not sit around twiddling my thumbs while you all tiptoe around me, sir.”

He hears Reno choke back a laugh at that from across the room. Rude glances up at them momentarily, looking wholly unsurprised by this development.

“Good,” Tseng responds, clipped and professional as ever. “Meet me in my office when you’re ready.”

~

Tseng checks Elena’s file again, more out of habit than anything else. He knows she’s a weapons expert, yet he gave her a gun. He knows she’s not exactly the quiet type, known as friendly and talkative in her school, able to swindle information out of whoever she needed to. He knows she’s green as grass without a mission track record.

He knows he isn’t sure if he wants to do this to her.

But this is the mission at hand, to track down and chase after AVALANCHE. The end result never needs to be said, the Turks know what’s expected of them when they find their targets. Other missions are posted between, varying on location and difficulty, but most are slum hits from Wall Market.

“Why do we always get the missions to take out bottom-feeding scum?” Reno had once asked.

Tseng didn’t have the answer then. He might have an answer now, a hazy guess at best.

There’s a knock on his door and Elena steps in, taking the space in front of his desk, at attention with her hands clasped behind her back, feet shoulder-width apart, head held high. Just like her sister. Just like Emma.

“You may sit,” Tseng says after a long pause, when he realizes she won’t take a seat of her own will.

“Yes, sir,” she responds, sitting down with rigid posture, hands splayed flat on her thighs. “What mission would you have me carry out?”

Tseng picks up a manila folder, labeled AVALANCHE V.2., and slides it across Veld’s desk. His desk, now. “Your mission will be conducted with the rest of us simultaneously. We are to track AVALANCHE’s movements using any means necessary, using all avenues of information available to us. They are a threat to Shin-Ra, not to be taken lightly despite their status as…” Tseng pauses, mulling over the words used in the file briefing, knowing that Reno left that life behind years ago now, “slum rats.”

He recalls one of many conversations he had earlier with President Shin-Ra and wonders vaguely how important a secondary AVALANCHE group could possibly be, running around calling themselves eco-terrorists, attempting to better the planet while calling Shin-Ra the enemy, causing city-wide blackouts with their reactor bombings.

Messy, Rude had grumbled when they’d gained access to footage from the reactor break-ins. As if Rude could have done a cleaner demolition job with the unpredictability of untethered mako energy involved.

Tseng watches Elena flip through the file, reading more than scanning. “And when we find them?” she asks. “Obviously they have giant targets on their backs, but are we really just gonna walk in on their turf?”

The last part of the mission file has been redacted, courtesy of Tseng himself. He has the only copy of it, with diagrams of how the metal plates hold up the city, thanks to Reeve Tuesti, head of the Urban Development team. Which spots are weak. Where they can break. Tseng folds his hands on his desk. Veld’s desk.

“Your instructions are to help find them. Don’t worry about what happens after,” Tseng says instead, not willing to divulge anything about the President’s macabre plan. Not to Elena.

(After all, their last run-in with a group called AVALANCHE ended badly. He’s not sure he wants to send Elena into round two when a plate is involved.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wish the plate debacle was actually just a slice of life turks argument over plate sets at walmart and not a PART OF THE CITY DROPPING ONTO ANOTHER PART OF THE CITY.
> 
> anyway this chapter signals the end of this fic, hope you enjoyed reading through the turks reactions to elena as well as elena's own self-struggle <3


End file.
